A Legacy Continued
by Darci the Thespian
Summary: 'I see that child who lay upon her bosom, and who bore my name.' As Lucie and Darnay continue their lives, their son, Sydney, meets a few friends that call themselves Les Amis de l'ABC. Co-written with Marseillaise of RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow.
1. Watching over us

**A/N: This is a cross-over of Les Mis and A Tale of Two Cities. This takes place before Sydney's death**

Lucy walked outside and stared up at the clear blue sky. It was an unusually good day for London.

"My dear, is something wrong?" the arrival of her husband, Charles, made her turn.

"I was just thinking of our lost son. He died a year ago," Lucie sighed and looked out. "He was a beautiful boy. He looked just like his father."

Charles smiled and stood next to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "I thought he looked just like his mother."

"Mother! Father!" a little girl's voice rang from inside the house.

Lucie smiled and turned to where little Lucie was running outside with Sydney.

"What is it my dear?" Lucie asked her daughter.

"Uncle Sydney said he's taking me to the park!" little Lucie said, smiling. Lucie looked up and smiled at Sydney, who gave her a brief smile in return.

Charles turned to Sydney, "be careful, the streets are quick to turn violent."

Sydney nodded and picked little Lucie up, who hugged him. They walked away, in the direction of the park.

Lucie sighed when they left. "At least we were allowed to hold onto our other angel, our precious daughter."

Charles nodded and kissed his wife's cheek. "Our angels are watching out for us."

Lucie nodded and smiled as she kissed her husband. "We'll be safe under their careful eye."


	2. A new son

1820

Lucie smiled as her daughter walked her son around the yard. Five years ago, they were gifted with another boy. He had brown hair and eyes, a fair complexion, and was called Sydney. The boy was smart and wise, even for his five years. Lucie knew he was going to grow up to do great things.

"My love," Charles voice came from the doorway behind Lucie. Lucie turned around and smiled at him.

"Yes, darling?" she walked over and caressed his cheek.

"I was thinking we should move back to Paris," Charles said. "It is our home, and the unrest has been gone for years. It is time for us to go home."

"You're right," Lucie nodded. "Will Father come with us?"

"Of course! Mr. Lorry might want to stay, but we can invite Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher as well," Charles said.

Lucie turned to look at her two children. They were both giggling and playing. She turned back to her husband. "To Paris we shall go."


	3. Courfeyrac and Jehan

A/N: This bit was written by Marseillaise

1831

"Monsieur de Courfeyrac, that is enough!" Blondeau snapped at the young man. Sydney Darnay almost laughed at the rather inappropriate joke that the Monsieur de Courfeyrac in question had made. He didn't know Courfeyrac, only his reputation and loud voice in class. When it was over, Sydney walked outside to call a fiacre and go home. As he did so, he was nearly run into by a breathless young man with flyaway curly hair and a panicked expression.

"Hold on! Wait!" Sydney turned to face him. "I'm sorry to interrupt…whatever you're doing, but I was wondering if I could possibly catch a ride home with you."

The young man's face was red as he said, "I appear to have misplaced my pocket-book. Do you mind- you know- me riding with you?" Sydney nodded amiably and gestured for the man to enter the fiacre.

"You're de Courfeyrac, right?" he said.

"It's just Courfeyrac. That idiot Blondeau insists on calling me that."

Sydney, confused, asked, "but…isn't that your name?"

Courfeyrac laughed and said jovially, "I suppose it is. But I don't have to like it!" The two young men laughed and continued talking until Courfeyrac announced that he had to get off.

"See you tomorrow, then, Courfeyrac," he replied.

"À demain!"

As the days passed, Courfeyrac and Sydney became fast friends. They had a lot in common, and rode a fiacre home together nearly every day. Soon, it was February, 1832.

"Want to come to my place after class?" Courfeyrac whispered in the middle of a particularly boring lesson by Blondeau.

"Sure," Sydney whispered back. They rode to Courfeyrac's home, and Sydney remarked about the general messiness of it, much to the amusement of Courfeyrac.

"Half of it is Jehan's mess, really!" he laughed.

"Jehan?"

"My flatmate. He'll be here soon, he doesn't take law."

"Oh. What does he do, work for the army? It must be something important, for him to leave such a mess." Sydney frowned, realizing that this made absolutely no sense.

At this, Courfeyrac burst out laughing. "Jehan? With the army? Really, you couldn't have guessed worse!"

"Well then, what does he do?" asked Sydney somewhat crossly.

"He's a poet. And a flutist. And he likes flowers." Courfeyrac barely made it out without choking from laughter. "And," he added, "He's a republican, as am I."

Sydney went a bit red. "Oh…I really wasn't close to the mark, was I?"

"Not at all."

At that moment the Jehan in question walked in.

"Courf?" a surprisingly deep voice said, "who's this?

"Hello," he added, nodding at Sydney.

"This is Sydney Darnay. Darnay, this is Jean Prouvaire."

"Hello."

Jehan smiled, his light brown longish hair falling in his eyes. He shook it off and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Sydney."

Courfeyrac nodded impatiently. "Right, right," he said, "Now, what are we going to do?"

Jehan frowned. He walked over to Courfeyrac and murmured, "what about Les Amis de l'Abaisse? I thought we were meeting today…"

Courfeyrac swore and turned to Sydney, an apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry, but I didn't realize it and we have a meeting to go to. See you Monday? Maybe we can get together then. And you can help me with that lecture, I confess I paid exactly no attention." Sydney nodded and agreed to this arrangement.

The next weekday, as he and Courfeyrac were riding the fiacre home, Sydney turned to him and said, "I'm just curious, but what was that meeting you were going to? Les Amis de l'ABC? Odd name, isn't it?"

Courfeyrac frowned and said, "I'll tell you about it at my flat."At said flat, Courfeyrac turned to Sydney. "It's called Les Amis de l'Abaisse, not ABC. The friends of the debased. We are…Idealists, I guess you could say." He nodded, apparently happy with this description. Suddenly, as if an idea had just occurred to him, he turned to Sydney. "Say, why don't you come to a meeting? We meet on most days after university, or whatever they have. I wouldn't have gone last Friday, but apparently Enjolras has been up hours on some speech. Combeferre told me, and he said that I would be in trouble if I 'missed it for some girl again'. What do you think? There's one tomorrow."

Sydney thought about it. His own political opinions were very conflicted, but he decided that going to one meeting with supposed "idealists" couldn't be too bad. He nodded and replied, "I guess. When?"

"Just come over to my house. The meetings are at the Café Musain, do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, I think."

"All right. Just come home with me and I'll take you over with me and Jehan."

"Sounds good!"


End file.
